"By all means, if you wish it. Only I am inclined to think there won't be very much to curse."
Lord Archibald ground out an oath between his teeth, and he groaned. Mr. Townsend went on; he was enjoying his cigarette.
"By the way, have you done anything for the Honour of the Club?"
His visitor half rose from his seat, then sank back into it again.
"No! You know I haven't! Don't talk of it! No!"
"I have no desire to talk of it. It is scarcely a question of talk. It is rather a question of do."
His hearer covered his face with his hands and shuddered. There was something in his host's eyes, as he smilingly regarded him, which suggested possibilities--and also limitations--of a distinctly curious sort. He kept his glance fixed on his companion, and, as he spoke again, he expelled through his nostrils the smoke of his cigarette.
"On the whole, perhaps, your policy of postponement may turn out fortunately for both of us. You will remember that under certain circumstances I reserved the right to nominate a candidate--a candidate, that is, for your attention. The circumstances which I thought might arise have arisen."
"Townsend!"
"Archie!"